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It's May 31st. This day is so special to me because it's the day I became a mother. This day is celebrated as what our family affectionately calls "Gotcha Day." It's the day a tiny baby boy, just 3 weeks old and still in preemie clothes, was placed in my arms by the girl who gave him life. She was just 15, yet somehow she seemed braver than me. I was trying to be aware of everything. Up until the moment I walked into that lawyer's office in Ohio, I had only seen a glimpse of him in a small, blurry photo. I will never forget the memory as long as I live. I was so nervous, so worried I wouldn't know what to do, so scared about the reality that was sinking in. I hoped she wouldn't see my fear and say I was unfit. I looked at her first. She sat calmly as she held him. She seemed void of emotion, yet I knew the impact of it all would forever etch this moment in her mind for different reasons. I looked down at him. I was trying not to burst into tears but I…

A storm blew through last night. The thunder was cracking so loudly you thought the sky was opening up. The lightning was so bright it lit up the whole night. Now the waves are pounding toward the shoreline with a roaring vengeance. The roughness of the waters doesn't resemble any kind of peace or tranquility. Instead the thrashing water is pounding over top of each other, wave after wave, fighting toward the shore. The wind is howling and whipping, tearing through the serenity and tossing it aside. The cloud cover overhead is filling the sky. The sun would have to valiantly break forth to try to shine high and clear today. It's cool. Cold, even. It's a reminder of how quickly things can change. It's a reminder that even the most peaceful sea can turn into utter chaos. It's a reality check that storms arise and circumstances can change the tides. In His word there are also reminders that the wind and waves obey Him. With just a word, He can quiet the raging storms.…

There can't be anything more perfect than quiet time along the shore, interrupted only by the crashing waves. The backdrop is the rising sun taking its place in a crystal clear sky. There's a certain intimacy with Almighty Creator that comes when you are smack-dab in the midst of His mind-blowing creation. The ocean stretches far beyond what I can even see. Billions upon trillions of grains of sand scattered along the shore, too many for any human to count, yet they outnumber His thoughts toward me. Yes, there's a peace that comes in these moments of realization of just how big God is, how small we are, and yet how infinite His love is for each of us. My coffee cup is full. My heart is overflowing. These are the moments we should build an altar upon. A testament to stand as a reminder of what God wants us to remember. He calls us to live in His peace and presence, not in the midst of chaos and turmoil. Too often our circumstances feel like the crashing waves ready to overt…

It had been an overcast morning but by afternoon the sun was in full force. I was looking for my sunglasses and recalled a certain little boy had asked to borrow them on the morning ride. "Hey bud, can mommy have her glasses back?" I asked. Dead silence. I peered through the rearview mirror to see if he was lost in imagination only to realize he was very much listening. Head down, hand to his forehead, I knew something was wrong. "Eli, did you hear mommy?" This time I was going to wait for a response. With hesitation, he started to reply, "Yes, but..." I was willing to wait. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on but I knew he had something to say. I could hear some shuffeling from the backseat and then I heard his explanation. "Mommy, I accidentally broke your glasses and I didn't want you to be mad so I hid them." From the side panel of the door he was now producing a pair of glasses with a detached piece. When I had given him the well-worn g…

WARNING: This is not my sentimental, emotional ode to mothers. This is my hope to start over, my quest to somehow feel normal despite feeling like I've already blown it before 8:00 a.m. on the day that I"m supposed to be recognized and celebrated as some woman of honor, you know, the one who manages to pull it all off with grace and poise, she keeps her cool in the midst of utter chaos. Oh no, that is NOT this post!
Mother's Day began for me at 1:30 am. Before you think I was partying like a rock star, allow me to paint a different picture.
There was no sonic-like radar hearing for this slumbering and flat-out exhausted mother. My husband had to shake me from my coma-like sleep to let me know E was crying for me.
After administering medicine, breathing treatments and consoling a very sick little boy, he ended up curled up beside me finally back to sleep. It wouldn't be a restful night for anyone but him, but at least …

Yesterday I celebrated my son's sixth birthday. Tomorrow I will be honored on Mother's Day. But it cannot go without being noticed that today is the day that bridges these two events together. Today is birthmother's Day. It's not widely known unless you are a birthmother yourself or unless you have been given the gift of motherhood by a birth mother. For me, this day represents the connection between my son's birth and the gift of becoming a mother myself. Mother's Day represents a celebration of life. I can say that I have come across this journey with many labor pains even though I never physically gave birth. For me, becoming a mother has truly been a process of understanding faith and God's sovereign plan. It has been a journey that bears scars for me, places that are still tender in my heart recognizing the pain of infertility. Make no mistake, I did not give birth to him but I have certainly labored long and hard, even wrestling with God and my own fait…

I get sentimental around this time. It's a divine gift that my little miracle celebrates life during the same weekend I get to celebrate becoming a mother. Six years ago on Mother's Day I wasn't even aware of him. Yet I was oh-so-aware of the absence of him. I prepared myself for yet another Sunday when I'd sit in church and all the mothers around me would stand to be recognized while I would silently sit, hiding my pain and choking back tears. Six years hasn't been enough time for me to forget the ache I carried. I pray I never do. It makes me mindful that every time I see a miracle enter someone's world that someone else is still praying and waiting and hoping for theirs. I was never good with kids. I wasn't the sister who played school and ultimately grew up to be a teacher. I was never happy when my mom required my help with nursery duty, something she chose Sunday after Sunday. I was desperately worried that I wouldn't bond with a baby I didn't…

This week has just been one of those weeks. You know the kind. Too much going on, not enough time to do it all, trying to conquer the world, telling everyone yes when you know you can't add one more thing. It's been that kind of week. The demands of work are hectic. The schedules have been at a pace that feels like fast foward. Tensions have been at an all-time high. Emotions are on overload. It's been that kind of week. It's the eve before my amazing little boy's birthday. It's just a few days before Mother's Day. I'm doing my best to juggle birthdays and celebrations, peppered in with a demanding work schedule. My days have been scheduled down to the minute and truthfully I'm wondering when I'll actually get to sleep at this point. Yes, it's been that kind of a week. I've loaded myself down with to do lists coupled with mounds of guilt for all the things I "could have, should have, but didn't do." I wonder why I do this to…

I love coffee. I love a dark roast mixed with just the right amount of flavored creamer. I love the seasons flavors - White Chocolate Raspberry in winter, Peppermint Mocha around Christmas and Pumpkin Spice at the first signs of fall. Spring has brought a Mudslide Creamer that seems to be the perfect amount of chocolate and sweetness in my dark roast brew. I don't drink coffee black. I also don't drink coffee with milk or plain cream and sugar.

It all started when I used up the last drop of creamer. I knew I was in trouble but it was a full day of work and activity and it never even crossed my mind to stop at the store for more creamer. At least not until Friday rolled around.

The coffee is usually auto-set to brew around 6:15 a.m. so by the time I come downstairs I can pour a cup and sip on it while I get ready. I went through my normal morning routine sans coffee and made my usual fruit and veggie smoothie and thought I'd be just fine. This was a lie.

Redeemed, forgiven, bought by blood. Letting the broken pieces of a scattered life be mended into His masterpiece.
The blog isn't meant for anyone. It's mine. My private thoughts. My talks with God. My discoveries of life. My lessons and experiences; my joy, my pain.
This is who I am. Wired for sound; amped up on life; bringing people along my journey in the process. More than that, it is who God made me to be.